


Three's A Crowd

by OfficialStarsandGutters



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, M/M, Multi, Teenlock, fem!Moriarty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialStarsandGutters/pseuds/OfficialStarsandGutters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor Trevor is used to being alone. He's been bullied his entire life, it's nothing new. When he befriends Jade Moriarty, he thinks things are going to change for the better, but nothing is ever so simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seazu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seazu/gifts).



> Woo! 50th fic on ao3. Hopefully it's a good one.  
> Charlie's Christmas gift. Been working on this on and off since summer. Hopefully it'll be done by Christmas. Hopefully.
> 
>  
> 
> It's a very different AU, so thank you so much if you've decided to give it a go.   
> Introducing, for the very first time, our take on Victor Trevor! Precious bab.
> 
> Trigger warning for racist language throughout.

One day, without warning, Victor Trevor walks into a classroom and aggressively flips a desk. The class is not even his own, and he doesn't know the girls sitting behind the desk, but his anger at being continuously teased and shoved has bubbled to the surface. He just needs to cause some damage.

It doesn't spread through the school – he is only in Year Eight, the whole school does not care that much for one thirteen year old – but it spreads rather quickly through his year group. If anything, it only makes the bullying worse. Before he was a joke for his skin colour and his weight, but now his temper becomes another target for ridicule. Dirty Hulk becomes his new name.

One detention and two weeks later, and he lifts a bag from the bag shelter. Again, he does not know who it belongs to, he just wants to cause destruction, wants to release some of the hate frothing around inside of him.

“You're dealing with this in the wrong way.”

Victor turns. He expects it to be one of the girls from his year, that whisper behind his back and laugh when the boys push him around. Instead, it is a Year Seven; a tiny, pale girl with dark eyes and darker hair. Victor recognises her immediately; Jade Moriarty, the little girl that broke the rugby captain's nose.

“Letting your anger out in random bursts doesn't solve anything,” the girl says, and her words are flavoured with an Irish brogue. “You're not making a point. You're just acting recklessly.”

“So?” Victor says, because he does not know what else to say. He never knows what to say. He only gets spoken to when it's someone slinging a dig or a slur his way, and he accepts abuse silently. He has learned arguing is pointless, and besides, he cannot trust himself not to cry.

“So give me my bag back.”

“Are you going to break my nose?”

Jade laughs.

“Only if you make me,” she says.

Victor doesn't know what else to do but hand the bag back. Jade quickly slips it on her shoulders. Victor expects her to be angry with him, or just turn and walk away, but instead she smiles.

“They don't like me, either,” she says.

“That's different. They're scared of you.”

“It's not just that. They don't like me because I'm different; because of my accent, and because I'm cleverer than them.”

“But they leave you alone.”

“Yes. Because I didn't lose control. I made a very clear statement.”

“So what should I do?”

“That's easy.” Jade smiles. “You just have to make them afraid of you.”

*

The next week is one of the best Victor has had in a long time. There is a silent agreement between Jade and him that his presence is allowed, so long as he does not disturb her lunchtime reading. He doesn't mind. He is used to eating alone, so the silence doesn't bother him. It is much more pleasant to sit beside someone in silence than it is alone.

Sometimes she talks to him, a flow of facts he can hardly keep up with. She tells him about the universe, about the book she's reading that day, or the elements that make up everything in their world. Victor only retains some of it, but he likes to listen to the flow of her words. The stars are her favourite topic.

“That's the worst thing about the city. The light pollution is so bad, it's lucky if you can see any of them at night. I wish I could go out to the country, somewhere the sky is really clear. Perhaps I'd even be able to chart them myself.”

The bullying has also improved considerably. People are afraid of Jade, and he's become associated with her, so they are afraid of him by default. He still gets the occasional comment, the odd elbow in the hallway, but it is much more bearable now than before. He hasn't cried once this week so far. He's even found himself smiling several times.

“Jade,” he says a fortnight into their friendship. “How did you break Gilbert's nose?”

“Easy. Upwards palm strike.” Jade holds her hand out and mimics the motion, swiftly forcing her palm up and into an imaginary nose as she giggles. “Crack. Job done.”

“Why did you do it?”

“He laughed at me.” Any amusement suddenly vanishes from Jade's face, and what is left instead is an expression Victor finds frightening. Any trace of emotion is gone. Her mouth is a thin, inexpressive line. Her skin is smooth and free of lines. Only her eyes give anything away, big and dark and seething with what Victor recognises as hatred. In that moment Victor understands why people are afraid of her, of this small, pale girl. “He called me names, he mocked me, and he tried to hit me. Tried. So I hit him first, and no one ever tried to hit me again.”

*

“Oi, Paki.”

The shout comes from behind them. They are sitting on a bench towards at the back of the school, which is usually quiet during their lunch hour. Victor does not look up at the sound, but Jade does, raising her head from her book and staring darkly towards the three boys from the rugby team. Victor is surprised they have approached them after what Jade did to their captain.

“Paki, I'm talkin' to you,” the first boy, Phillip Abbott, says.“Is she your girlfriend now?”

“Aww,” chimes in a second boy; Gareth Fielding. “Paki and Irish sitting in a tree...”

“Does his cock taste like curry, freak girl?” Abbott jeers.

“Guys...” The third boy, Sebastian Moran, finally speaks. He is the youngest of the three, and the smallest, one of the boys in Victor's class. “Leave it.”

His input is quiet, but firm, and promptly ignored.

“Surprised if she can even find his cock under all that fat.”

Abbott and Fielding cackle together. Victor is drowning in the sound. His face is hot with humiliation, and their words cling to him like wet leaves stick to the bottom of a shoe. The ordeal is only worsened by Jade's presence as a witness. She looks at him with those big, dark eyes, and he wants to cry. He can feel the tears bubbling so close to the surface, but that stare keeps him frozen, unable to react until he has observed her reaction.

“Victor,” she says quite calmly, loud enough for only him to hear. “Walk over to that boy, take his arm, and bend it behind his back until it cracks.”

Victor blinks. A tear escapes and leaves a damp trail down his cheek.

“What?” He is not sure he has heard correctly.

“Do it. Now.”

Victor lingers reluctantly as the boys hurl a few more racial slurs at him. Violence is not in his nature. Only when his anger flares does he lash out; unpredictable, like a dog that has taken too much abuse and is finally biting back in defence. It is unplanned. It is not like this. It is not intentional, but Jade is watching him with that piercing stare, and Victor is too afraid of losing the only person who has accepted him since he started secondary school. He rises.

Abbott and Fielding make high pitched 'oooh'-ing noises as he approaches them, mocking. They do not find Victor's hesitant waddle threatening. Only Moran looks cautious.

“Do you smell that?” says Fielding.

“It's that Paki corner shop smell, innit. Sticks to everything. Just wafts around him like a big shit-coloured air freshener.”

Victor's anger sparks. He closes the distance between himself and Abbott in two more quick steps. Abbott is still laughing as Victor takes a hold of his arm, and before the laughter lines have even faded from the corner of his eyes, Victor has twisted his arm behind his back, forcing Abbott to bend before him.

“Oi!” Gareth leaps forward.

“Further,” Jade says.

Gareth is not quick enough to stop Victor from applying more pressure, and he feels the click of bone breaking beneath skin as clearly as he hears it, like the sound of dry sticks snapping beneath his shoes when he walks through a forest. Abbott lets out a high wail, but his voice cracks just like his arm.

“Jesus fuckin' Christ you Paki wanker, you've broken his arm!” says Fielding.

Moran says nothing. He just looks at Victor as Fielding leads Abbott away, both of them dropping swears as they go. He looks neither angry or afraid; his mouth is a thin, firm line, but to Victor, his eyes look like they understand.

“Sebastian, the fuck's keeping you?”

Moran gives Victor a curt nod, before turning and following his team mates. Victor turns and walks back across to Jade.

“Well done,” she says.

“I'm not even from Pakistan,” is all he can think to say. “I'm Indian.”

“I know, but you can't expect idiots like that to make educated insults.”

The bell rings to signal the end of lunch, but neither of them move. The noise of pupils returning to class steadily quiets, and when it is silent once more, Victor speaks.

“Doesn't it bother you?”

“What?”

“People thinking you're my girlfriend.”

“Why would that bother me?”

“Well, I'm not exactly...” Victor trails off. He looks down at himself; his brown skin and protruding stomach, before finishing quietly: “Fit.”

“Victor,” says Jade. “They don't even possess enough intelligence to get your ethnicity right, so no, I don't care about the opinions of idiots.”

Victor smiles.

*

He expects trouble to come sooner rather than later, but days stretch into a week and no one comes looking for him. Abbott's arm is in a cast and the word around school is that he injured himself during rugby practice and didn't even realise it was broken until later that evening, when he could only do ten push ups instead of his usual one hundred. Several of the girls find this awfully brave and impressive.

“Why is he lying about it?” Victor asks Jade, because Jade always knows things he does not.

“Isn't it obvious? He doesn't want to admit what happened. It's embarrassing for him. A sports injury is much more impressive than getting beat up by you. No offence.”

“I thought he would report me.”

“Never underestimate the frailty of the male ego. Are you complaining?”

“No,” says Victor. “I guess not. Thanks. For telling me what to do.”

“I just told you how to control your strength,” Jade says. “Everything else was all you.”

What is even more surprising than the lack of reprimand he receives, is that people leave Victor alone after that. Besides the occasional name, the bullying comes to a sudden halt. No more pushes in the corridor, no more sly feet trying to trip him up, no more nasty notes slipped into his bag. No more crying himself to sleep every night. It's a sudden freedom he wasn't expecting, but he cherishes, and with Jade as his friend, the last few months of school are much easier to bear.

“Will you still talk to me next year?” he asks her on the last day, with the long summer months stretching like eternity before him.

“Don't be stupid. Why wouldn't I?”

*

Summer is a bubble of freedom in which Victor swells and thrives. His family spend a month in India with relatives, where the sun is hot and the food is hotter. They spend their evenings crowded around his great aunt's dining table, elbows touching, and while Victor's cousins fuss and complain, Victor cherishes the feeling of being cramped together with all these people. It is the opposite of his school days. He is met with affection and humour, his voice is heard and cherished, when Hindi passes his lips it is not mocked, and his skin colour unites him with the family he has not seen since last year rather than setting him apart.

If he did not miss Jade so much, it would be perfect.

 


	2. Chapter 2

September rolls around far too quickly for Victor's liking, and his Indian tan is only just fading as he dresses in his new uniform, two sizes down from the year previous. He is still a good deal larger than most boys of his age, but he's grown a few inches in height and lost a more in breadth during his couple months absence from school. He's starting to recognise the line of cheekbones beneath his chubby cheeks. Not that it does much for his confidence.

The nervous fluttering that he feels in his stomach as he approaches the school gates is different than the year before, though. It's a nervous excitement this time. As much as he hates this awful building and most of the people in it, there is Jade, one gem among the dirt. He's had no contact with her over the summer; she doesn't have a phone, or Facebook, or any way he can reach her outside of their school chats. He's missed her terribly, can't wait to see her again, but beneath it all there is that fear. That's she's changed her mind about him. That she won't speak to him this year and he'll go back to being alone again.

“Going in or are you just going to stand there staring at the gates all morning?”

The voice comes from behind him, and Victor turns swiftly. There is Jade, just as small and pale as he remembers, almost sickly looking, but to him she is beautiful. Victor's face splits into a grin he is unable to contain, and before he can stop himself he has bounced forward and hugged her. She goes tense in his arms for a moment, before giving him a few light pats on the back.

“Ready to head in?” she says when he has released her again, and Victor nods. Now he is.

*

He is six months into his teens. He is a young man now, and while he has had fleeting crushes before, he's beginning to take note of girls in a new way, in terms of sexual attractiveness rather than just who looks cute. It's no surprise. His whole year is at it. Couples are holding hands in the corridors, or kissing at the back of the bag shelters, and there's even whispers of what happens on the buses, but Victor is a mixture of naïve innocence and he doesn't understand half the terms being thrown around with that gossip.

There are a few pretty girls in his class, and plenty in his year, but mostly he looks at Jade. She is not pretty. Not really. She is too pale, too skinny, and there are always dark smudges beneath her eyes. Her hair is short and jagged, uneven scissor lines that she cuts herself. Her nose is crooked and her lips are thin and cracked. Even her figure is boyish, sharp bones instead of curves. Jade looks sick. Jade looks starving. Jade is not what Victor would call pretty.

Yet there is something about her. Something he can't shake. Something that makes him constantly examine her, but he never figures it out. He would not call it a crush. Maybe, if he let it, the strange feeling might develop into one, but Jade is his friend and he would rather avoid the awkwardness. It is just a warmth, a glow, an attractiveness to Jade that results in Victor wanting to be near her, even when she is mean, snappy, sarcastic.

It's not a crush. Until one day, from nowhere, Jade sets her book down, leans across, and kisses him. They are on the roof. Since Jade discovered the way up (disguised as a janitor's closet), it has been their new respite from the rest of the school body. Their breaks and lunch times are spent up there, hidden, watching the small shapes of other students move around beneath their feet. They are on the roof on a chilly day in October and Jade's lips are against Victor's. It is not the magical first kiss he has read about in books. It only last a few seconds, and Victor only acknowledges that Jade's lips are dry and cold against his. Then she is gone, and he is left with the faintest tingling of the skin around his mouth.

He tries for words, but nothing comes. Jade has lifted her book again and continues to read as if nothing has passed between them. Victor brings his fingers to his lips and presses them there, where Jade's were mere seconds before. He has considered kissing a girl, considered kissing many girls, has even had the odd fleeting thought of what it might be like to kiss a boy, but he never expected it to happen. Not to him. Not while he looked like this.

“Are you my girlfriend now?” he says eventually.

“No,” Jade says, turning a page. “I just wanted to be the first girl you kissed.”

She says it so casually, and suddenly Victor is possessed by the idea that she is the only girl he ever wants to kiss.

*

“I think I'm going to try out for the rugby team.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“The rugby team,” Victor repeats. “I'm going to try out.”

“See, that's what I thought you said, but it just made no sense to me, and therefore I had to clarify,” says Jade, her brow furrowing with irritation.

“Well, I'd quite like to play.” Victor's voice is quieter now, uncertain, afraid of angering Jade.

“Has your memory faded or did the Indian sun just melt your brain out of your head? That team is comprised of mindless morons that have nothing but contempt for you.”

“Not all of them. Abbott and a few of the older boys are gone now, it'll be different.”

“Right. And you think you'll make it?” Jade's mouth is turned down in a sneer, her tone mocking, but her eyes are blazing with anger.

“I have as much chance as anyone else.”

“Right.”

“Jade.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Jade-”

“It has nothing to do with me.” Jade stands suddenly. Victor can feel her rage rolling off her like waves of heat. She swings her bag dangerously on to her shoulder, just missing him, and Victor watches with a frown as she storms off. “Don't come crawling back to me when they all laugh at you.”

*

Jade is not entirely correct. Only three of the boys already on the team laugh at him; Gareth Fielding (though that is no surprise), Jamie Clinton, and Oliver Bell. It is Sebastian Moran who tells them to shut up. Even as one of the younger players, Moran has earned respect among the team. He is lean and muscular, with the pretty blue eyes and bright smile of a poster boy. He is everything Victor is not; popular, charming, attractive. His barked command settles the team somewhat, but Victor can still hear their sniggers as he tries out with the rest of the wannabes.

He does not make the team.

A week later he is invited back, after Fielding, Clinton, and Bell all undergo accidents that leave them injured so badly they are unable to play for the next several months. Delighted, he accepts his place on the team.

*

He tracks Jade down the next day. It has been almost two weeks since they have spoken. Victor feels as if she has just vanished. For the past fortnight he has looked for her in their usual spots, lingered outside her classrooms, even asked some of her year have they seen her, but all to no avail. Jade had not want to be found and therefore Victor had not found her. Today, he finds her on the roof with a book in her lap.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she says without looking at him.

“I guess so.” Victor crosses the roof and sits by her side. He looks at her, but she is still looking forward, out across the playing fields. “Do you know what happened to the three boys?”

“What three boys?” Jade finally looks at him. Her eyes are opened wide in a display of innocence, and her lashes flutter a few times. She isn't even trying to sound genuine.

“Jade.”

“Yes Victor?”

“Was it you?”

“Hm?”

“Did you... Hurt them?”

“Don't be silly. They just happened to have little accidents. How clumsy of them.”

“Jade.”

“You should be grateful,” Jade says, and there is real bite to her voice now, anger sparking up through the pretence. “They laughed at you, so I got them out of the way. You should be thanking me.”

Victor is silent for a long moment as Jade stares at him with those dark angry eyes. He had never wanted anyone to get hurt, but Jade was only looking out for him. Like before, with Abbott's arm. She stopped them mocking him, she stopped the laughter, and now, she had gotten him a place on the team. They had brought it on themselves, as well. If they hadn't of been so horrible to him in the first place, so nasty, so vicious...

“Thank you,” Victor says, with such genuine feeling that for a moment surprise flickers across Jade's features. It doesn't last. Soon she is smiling at him, a dangerous curl at the corner of her lips.

“Any time,” she says, and Victor believes her.

 


	3. Chapter 3

For a few weeks after that, things settle back into the way they were. It does not last.

At first, Victor's rugby sessions are only after school, but as their first match approaches, more and more time is devoted to training. When he tells Jade he cannot spend lunch with her this week, she turns and walks away without a word.

Victor can feel the uncertainty of their relationship like a physical strain, a constant buzzing in the back of his head, a cold ache in his chest. He throws himself into practice to distract from it, slugs through mud and rain and the cold bite of the wind. His size is actually an advantage, and he's quickly improved since he's made the team.

Sebastian is a comfort in Jade's absence. The only member of the team to talk to Victor beyond necessary exchanges, he's even started acknowledging him outside of practice; standing with him while they wait for class, walking with him in the corridors. It's not all the time. Sebastian is popular, and sometimes he is lost in the midst of his other friends, but Victor appreciates any attention that is spared for him, any kindness.

“Where's your friend at? The little angry one.”

“Jade? I don't know.” Victor looks at his feet. He is on their bench, and he has not seen Jade in days.

“She off sick or something?” Sebastian drops down beside him, speaking around a mouthful of apple.

“I don't know.”

“Didn't she tell you?”

“No.”

“Oh. I thought you two were like best mates or something.”

“Something like that,” Victor says absently, but his tone reflects his uncertainty.

“Bit weird. Being best mates with a girl.”

“How is it?”

“Dunno. Just don't see it often, I guess.” Sebastian pauses thoughtfully, chewing another bite of his apple. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No,” Victor says, a touch too fast, a touch too defensive.

“Hey, hey, I was just asking. I'm not going to take the piss or anything.”

“She's not,” Victor says, softer this time. “We're just friends.”

If they're even that.

*

When he does find Jade again, it's by accident. She's walking into school in front of him. Victor recognises the way the back of her hair sticks up messily, like a pineapple. He hesitates for a second, then jogs to catch up with her.

“Hi.”

She glances sideways at him coldly, then walks on.

“Jade,” Victor says. “Jade, please.”

“What?”

“Aren't you talking to me?”

“I just said 'what?', didn't I?”

“I miss you.”

“Sure you do.”

“I do.”

“Right.” Jade stops so suddenly Victor almost collides with her. She turns to him, those dark eyes blazing, her mouth turned down at the corner into a frown. “Didn't take you long to replace me, though, did it? You've got your little pal Moran now. You don't need me.”

Victor is caught so off guard by that outburst, that as Jade turns and storms off, he can do nothing more than watch her leave.

“What happened there?”

Victor starts as Sebastian appears at his side, head tilted questioningly to the side. There is a churning in the pit of Victor's stomach that only increases when he looks at Sebastian. He shakes his head.

“Nothing.”

Victor appreciates that Sebastian doesn't question him further.

*

During PE, they have to run laps; Victor's least favourite activity. He is huffing and puffing along, when one of the boys in his year, Christopher Gibbs, one of the few who still find it amusing to pick on him, tries to trip him up.

His toe catches on Gibbs' foot, and Victor feels himself tilt forward. It can't be more than a second, but the journey to the ground seems to take a life time. He experiences it very clearly, as though time has slowed. Feels as though it is the ground that is coming up to meet him rather than the other way around. He just about gets his arms out in time, hands scraping painfully as he tries to save himself. He also feels the pain bursting through his knees when they make impact, and shaking through his bones.

Laughter follows, but it only lasts for a moment. A sudden quiet descends. Victor does not want to look up. It is only when he hears the distinctive crack of breaking bone that he does.

Sebastian is gripping Gibbs by the front of his shirt. There is blood running from his nose, down over his mouth, dripping from his chin on to Sebastian's hand. His other hand also has a streak of red on it, a souvenir from its impact with Gibbs' face.

Sebastian releases him.

Gibbs stumbles backwards, landing on the ground beside Victor. His breathing is coming heavy, wheezy, and Victor can hear the pain in it. His first impulse is sympathy, but the second wave of emotion comes much stronger, drowns the first out; satisfaction.

Sebastian holds out his bloody hand. Victor takes it, allows Sebastian to pull him to his feet.

“Alright?”

Victor nods. Before he can say anything, the shrill blow of a whistle sounds, their teacher storming towards them.

“Sebastian Moran! To the principle's office, now.”

*

Victor stays after school, waiting for him. Sebastian storms out of the office, his expression dark. He is quick to cover it when he sees Victor, flashing him a smile.

“Thought you'd be away on home,” he says.

“Wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Yeah, fine. Week of detention, and they're not letting me play the first match.”

“What?” Victor's expression falls. “But we need you.”

“Nah. It'll be fine. Just lucky his parents aren't taking it any further. Apparently he gets in a fair share of fights, so they're not going to push an assault case or anything.” Sebastian slings his bag over one shoulder, leading Victor down the empty corridors. “Prick.”

“Yeah.”

“Sending word home. What I'll have to listen to.” Sebastian laughs, playing it off, but the sound is hollow and insincere. Victor can tell by the lines at the corner of his eyes that he's actually worried. Before he can speak, Sebastian changes the subject. “What about you, though? You alright?”

“Uhm, yeah.” Victor pauses, glancing sideways at him. “Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you do that?”

“He was being a wanker, Vic. He had it coming. I just happened to be the one to give it to him.”

“Oh. Well. Thanks.”

“Don't get all soppy on me,” Sebastian says, bumping their shoulders together. Victor laughs, nudges him back, but the gratitude is still warm in his chest.

*

Their first match passes. They win, even without Sebastian. Somehow, their victory creates a sense of camaraderie among the boys, and it is no longer just Sebastian that speaks to Victor. Never in school has he had so much interaction that didn't end with him wanting to cry. He is almost the happiest he has been.

Almost.

The fall out with Jade is still an uncomfortable sensation in his chest. It would be easy, Victor thinks, to forget about her, if he let himself. To move on, reinforce his new friendships, and get on with his life. But he can't. He can't forget that she was the only person who accepted him before he was part of the rugby team. Before he had Sebastian Moran frequently at his side. Before he started to slim down, and he has, even more now, the challenge of practices melting away the chubbiness left behind after summer. He's gotten taller, too, wears his weight better.

Mostly, he can't forget the kiss. Brief as it was. Meaningless as Jade insists it was.

The more he looks at other girls, tries to work out what makes them pretty or cute, tries to summon some kind of response in himself; the more he realises he doesn't get the same feeling for any of them. Jade is the only person who has given him that twirling mess in the pit of his stomach.

Well, Jade and, recently, Sebastian.

Victor wonders if perhaps one day he'll be able to make a friend without also acquiring some awkward crush on them.

“You alright, Vic?”

Victor blinks, looking up at Sebastian. Or rather, Sebastian's face, becoming aware of the fact that he had spaced out staring at the other boy's chest. He feels his cheeks heat, and blesses his mother for gifting him with skin dark enough to disguise his embarrassment. Sebastian stands topless, his shirt in his hands, a towel draped around his neck.

“Fine,” Victor says, shaking his head.

“You looked a bit dazed there.”

“I'm fine.” Victor smiles. It is weak and doesn't last. “Just thinking about Jade.”

He doesn't really mean to admit it, but he trusts Sebastian enough to want to be honest. Sebastian's expression flickers, first a hint of teasing smile, but then he reassess and his eyes become more serious.

“I wish she would talk to me again,” Victor says. “I haven't seen her in ages.”

“She was at the match, you know.”

“What? No. Jade hates sport, she wouldn't-”

“She was. Top corner. Bundled up in a big hoody. I saw her.”

“Oh.” Victor is rather surprised by this information, and oddly touched. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Course.” Sebastian smiles, and returns to changing.

As usual, Victor waits for the changing room to clear before he himself gets dressed.

*

He finds Jade on the roof again. She is huddled in the corner, her arms wrapped around her legs and her face pressed against her knees. The temperature is beginning to drop steadily as the days slip by, but if she is cold, she shows no outward sign of it.

“Hi,” Victor says.

Jade says nothing, but her dark eyes move to stare up at him.

“How have you been?”

She shrugs.

“I've missed you.”

She huffs out a laugh, muffled by her thighs, disbelieving. Victor sighs. He sits beside her and takes off his bag, routing around in it. He takes out a box. Star Master is written on it, and beneath the words is a picture of cylinder shaped device that, when turned on, emits light through holes, creating the effect of stars on the walls and ceiling.

“I know it's not the same as the real thing, but I thought it might do as a substitute until I can take you somewhere you can see them in the sky.”

Jade's eyes move from the box, to Victor's face, back to the box again. Her face has brightened with interest, but she makes no move. Victor holds it closer to her.

“Take it. It's yours.”

“What's it for?”

“I wanted to give you something. See, it's Diwali this week. We usually give sweets, but I thought you'd like this more.” It's mostly a peace offering, but Victor's not sure if Jade will just accept it without reason, and he did want to give her something. “And it's fitting. Festival of lights and all that.”

Slowly, Jade reaches out. She examines the box curiously, and in her interest, her body shifts from its tensed up position. As her knees move away, Victor catches sight of her painfully swollen lip. There is a dark split through the lower one, and the skin around it looks tender and raw. At the corners of her damaged mouth, he notices the first flicker of a smile she is trying to hold back.

“What happened to you?” Victor asks. Jade says nothing, only turns the box in her hands. “Jade. What happened to your mouth?”

Finally, her eyes flick up.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, and her tone is casual. “Just a clumsy accident.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I was clumsy. It's embarrassing. I don't want to discuss it; it's nothing.”

It doesn't look like nothing, Victor thinks. And it doesn't look like an accident, either.

“Does it hurt?”

“What do you think?”

“Looks painful.”

“Do you want to kiss it better?”

“Wh-what?” Victor's face heats. His mouth dries. His throat tightens. Any further words fail him, and Jade does not miss the effect her question has. She smiles, and it tugs at the cut, but she doesn't react even though it must sting.

“Go on, then.” She leans closer, looking up at him from beneath dark lashes. She flutters them, and despite those big, dark eyes that are always so calculated and cold, despite the battered state of her mouth, despite the sharp tone in her voice that is just a touch too cruel to be teasing, there is something almost sweet about her in that moment. Something inviting. “Consider it my gift.”

Victor licks his lips nervously.

“Really?”

Jade sighs, barely restrained irritation, but nods her confirmation. Victor tries to swallow, but his mouth is too dry to allow it. He shuffles closer, feeling huge compared to Jade, feeling like he has ballooned beyond his normal size. He is so painfully aware of every inch of his body, of every movement, and so terribly self conscious as he leans closer to Jade. Their lips meet too hard the first time, and Jade hisses through her teeth as he collides with her wound. Victor tries to recoil quickly, apologies bubbling up his throat already, but Jade cups a hand around his neck and keeps him close.

This kiss is different than the first one. It is still slow, but it is more urgent. Jade's lips are firm against his, her fingers possessive on the back of his neck, and when her tongue slides across his lip, it is shock alone that parts them enough for her to slip past.

Suddenly, all Victor can think of is the gulab jaamun he ate at the start of lunch, and wondering if Jade can taste the lingering sweetness of them in his mouth. Is that gross? Tasting food he ate? That's probably gross. At least it was something sweet, though. Probably worse if it had of been savoury. As if sensing his distraction, Jade nips lightly at his lip, drawing his attention back to her.

He doesn't know what to do; not with his mouth, or his hands, or the rest of him. He is just sort of awkwardly perched near her, weight resting on one hand while the other clutches the bag still on his lap. She seems so good at this, so sure of what she is doing. Has she kissed other boys? If not, then how can she be so smooth, so confident, when Victor feels like a nervous mess? His mouth, so dry before, now feels full of saliva, in a way that must be entirely unappealing, but he dare not swallow while Jade's tongue is teasing against his, a cold presence in his mouth. He is shaking, ever so slightly, and his head is a dizzy rush.

They can't have been kissing for any longer than a minute, if even that, but it feels like a whole lifetime crammed into a short moment. His heart is fluttering, his stomach a sick crumpled mess, and every part of him is vibrating softly. As Jade moves away, he finds himself inhaling long, shaky breaths. She draws her wrist along her mouth to remove the excess damp of saliva and smiles at him.

“Bet you don't do that with Moran,” she says, with some satisfaction.

Victor doesn't know if it's possible for his cheeks to heat any further, but they burn all the same. He averts his eyes with a forced, choked laugh, trying to play along. It doesn't work. He is just stuck with the image of Sebastian kissing him the way Jade just did. Or maybe it's different, kissing a boy. Maybe the sensation is different. He clears his throat.

Jade's smile fades. Her eyes widen. For a few seconds, the mask of apathy she so carefully holds in place falters, and Victor can see surprise, betrayal, but the worst thing is the pain that scrunches her features. It is only there for a moment, but Victor recognises it. He has spent enough evenings crying, stared down his reflection with self loathing, to know what pain looks like. For a few seconds, Jade looks like the vulnerable twelve year old girl that she is.

Then it is gone. Her expression shuts down, hardens. Her eyes narrow, any traces of emotion vanishing. She swings her bag over one shoulder and stands quickly. Victor sees her try to hide the wobble in her step; undoubtedly she hasn't been eating. His concern for that is lost among the rest of his anxieties.

“So. That's how it is.”

“Jade-”

“Well, you definitely don't need me then.”

“Don't-”

“Whatever, Victor. Go play with your new friend. See if I care.”

“Jade, stop,” he says to her retreating back. “You're still my best friend.”

But he is only talking to the door that swings shut behind her.

 


End file.
